


Autumn

by Colbatros



Series: Black and White [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-29 23:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colbatros/pseuds/Colbatros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series divided in four parts of nothing but fluffy KamuKoma drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tiny Black Paws

**Author's Note:**

> There is an incredible lack of KamuKoma fanfics so I decided to just make one big collection of drabbles of this pairing (because we all know I'll be going down with this ship no matter what)

“How about this one?”

There was a musky odor floating in the shop. It was far from being a quiet place; birds merrily chirping behind white bars, the sound of the water purifiers humming in the fish tanks, and of course, the children oohing at the sight of the exotic animals. People would come and go, most of them only there to gawk at the pretty creatures, and a small minority really here to make a purchase. Izuru stood in front of the stained window, one hand on the glass, his eyes following the erratic movements of the little fur balls in the cages. Komaeda, his face nearly glued on the window, was excitingly pointing at a small beige puppy with his finger. When he turned his head, he was met with the boy’s glowing expression.

“It looks like a rat”, Izuru spit, giving the hyperactive Chihuahua nothing but a look of disdain. Immediately, the other’s arms lazily fell down to his sides, giving him the ‘oh come on’ eyes. In response, he started tugging at his green scarf with his free hand, seemingly bored. “Okay, then let me see…”

Izuru turned around to look around the pet shop. Right next to the dog cages, in another room with only one big window, were the kittens, jumping around playfully. Some were sound asleep, and he could even see them peacefully sighing from where he stood. Earlier, when he almost instantly showed interest in the felines when entering the store, Komaeda politely asked a clerk if they could take a closer look at the animals. He then invited the dark-haired one to follow the old woman in the room, his signature smile plastered on his face. Getting to play with the soft and fluffy creatures was really a liberating and relaxing experience. Izuru loved the way the kittens would rub their back on his hand, or how they would purr whenever he scratched their head. He sat amongst the animals for a solid ten minutes, and when he finally came out of the place, Izuru’s crimson eyes searched for Komaeda’s gaze, silently but intently pleading. “You know we can’t”, he laughed, shaking his head, “and you know why.” He hoped the white-haired boy would ignore his allergy to cats and allow him to adopt one, seeing how he seemed to like them - and that had almost been the case – but Komaeda instead took his hand and showed him the puppies. They weren’t as adorable as the felines he had the chance to play with, but he guessed they could still do.

“Oh! Look at this one!” Komaeda exclaimed, tapping the window with his digit, pointing at the cognac coloured canine, standing proud with its broad shoulders. He saw the Boxer’s ears move frantically every time the other would hit the glass with his finger. _Responsive, calm, strong…_ Izuru admitted to himself, silently judging the puppy in front of him. But there was still something wrong. “No, not quite” he murmured, his voice dying down at the end of his sentence. Komaeda sighed dramatically, putting his arm over the raven-haired one’s shoulders, shifting all of his weight on the shorter boy’s body.

“Well, I’m stumped”, Komaeda admitted, his lips right next to Izuru’s ear, his warm breath clashing against the cold skin. “Just tell me which one you want, will you?”

He gave each puppy a good look, noting whether or not their fur seemed clean and well groomed, trying to see if their nose were humid enough, trying not to be distracted by the other’s regular and steady heaving of his chest against his back. When he finally raised his arm, he felt Komaeda’s body abruptly tense up, surprised by the sudden movement. He followed the finger showing a black and furry creature, its tiny jaw opening and closing as it barked brightly in its cage.

“The Belgian Sheepdog? I didn’t figure you’d like this kind of dog…” Komaeda began, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Then, his expression softened, the corners of his mouth turning into a soft smile. “It’s because of the black fur, isn’t it?”

Izuru barely even reacted, gently nodding, his scarlet irises incapable of detaching themselves from the cheerful canine. He felt the other boy’s touch leave his body as he left to call the same clerk who helped them earlier. Komaeda gestured to the ebony puppy, giving the lady a heartwarming smile, and went back to Izuru who examined the woman’s movement as she picked up the dog. It wriggled between her hands, but it was nothing too aggressive; simply an outburst of energy. She came back to the two boys, handing the animal over to Komaeda, who put up his hands, politely refusing to hold the creature, stuttering something about his bad luck. He invited Izuru to take it instead, which surprised him for a moment, but he gladly accepted. While the white-haired one completed the transaction at the cash register, he ran his fingers through the dark hair, enjoying the way the puppy curled up in his arms. Komaeda made sure not to forget to buy everything the animal would need, including a leash, dog food and metal bowls. A ‘Have a nice day!’ later, and they were outside the pet shop, Izuru trying his best to secure the red collar around the puppy’s tiny neck. Together, they walked the small creature home, which seemed to love playing in the dead leaves on the sidewalk. His purchase in one hand, Komaeda reached for the other’s gloved hand, squeezing his fingers through his own. He swung his arm back and forth, chuckling whenever the puppy would tug excitingly on the leash.

“She sure seems to be full of energy”, he remarked, in a hushed tone. He detached his eyes from the dog to meet the other’s gaze. “What are we going to name her?”

“Don’t ask me, I’m really bad with names.”

Komaeda softly giggled, bringing their hands to his lips. “I guess we’ll figure it out later.”


	2. The End of Red

The sound of fingers softly tapping on the black keyboard was muffled by the gusts of wind which made the mountains of red leaves lift off from the ground. Curled up in a thick blanket, he sat crossed-legged on the rattan chair, the battery of the laptop warming his thighs. The untamed wild mess of jet hair flowing on his shoulders barely touched the wooden floor of the deck – today, Izuru just didn’t felt like tying it up, despite the humid atmosphere outside. In fact, he was so caught up with his work that he didn’t even mind the cold temperature of fall. The weather that day was nowhere near perfect; it had been cold from the morning, and there was a thick layer of clouds which let little to no sunlight filter through. Most people were all locked up inside, in the comfort of their house, but it was different for Izuru; he had a long list of projects he had to hand over in the coming week, and a very tight schedule for the weekend. He had decided it would be best for him to work outside to block out all distractions. Being the result of the Kamukura Izuru Project didn’t mean he could slack off and postpone his work.

He took a pause, saving his progress and closing the laptop. With a deep sigh which made the flyaway strands of dark hair in his face float, he lied down on the cushion, letting himself be lulled by the sound of the branches dancing in the wind.

The sliding door suddenly opening made him jump, surprised. When he looked up, he first saw a mess of white hair hiding the bright expression of a young man in a white apron. He greeted him with a cheerful smile and a small nod.

“What do you want for diner?” Komaeda asked, wiping off his dirty hands on the immaculate fabric.

The boy often had the bad habit of going through long phases of self-deprecation, just ordering food over the phone because he swore he had absolutely no culinary skill and would simply set the house aflame. During those periods, which could last anywhere between a few days to more than two weeks, Izuru had to tread very carefully if he didn’t want to involuntarily upset or offend him. He would simply avoid the subject, saying he was okay with whatever he would eat, even though that was a lie; a week of cheap fast-food could get to him extremely fast. But that was always better than accidently hurting Komaeda, and sending him in an even more profound state of self-loathing. However, right after, he would completely change, suddenly finding the inspiration and motivation to cook whatever he wanted. He would find recipes on his laptop, and then go on many trips to the grocery store, without even informing him before going out, leaving Izuru to himself for sometimes hours in his house. At least, that was better than having to endure the endless self-denigration.

And today seemed to be one of those days. Judging by the scent, it seemed like Komaeda had decided to bake a batch of fresh cookies – was that pumpkin he could smell? – and there was another lingering odor of tomato as well. Izuru detached his eyes from the boy to look at the yard, before answering in a voice close to a whisper; “Whatever you want.”

He heard Komaeda chuckle lightly, before feeling the other sit next to him on the cushion, the sound of the cold fabric crinkling under his weight. When he turned to face him, he had his hands on his knees, seemingly trying not to be a bother to Izuru and take up as little space as possible.

“Well then, looks like it’ll be pasta night”, he declared, looking up to the sky. As usual, it sounded like he already knew what he was going to cook for diner, but just wanted him to confirm his choice.

“Are we going to eat outside?” Izuru inquired, his eyes now on the glass table on the deck. He heard another chuckle. “Of course not, it’s gotten much too cold now. We’ll just have to wait until the end of spring, at least.”

“Oh”, he simply replied, his voice now lower and softer than ever. He truly sounded disappointed, even though his face refused to show any signs of it. Izuru liked having diner outside, getting to enjoy the view of the nearby forest. This time of the year, the woods looked like a real-life painting, with their bright and warm colours. Now, most of the trees were bare, with only a few leaves left on some of the branches. He had hoped he could get to appreciate the scenery one last time, before the winter started settling in. He sighed deeply.

The raven-haired boy felt a hand on his shoulder, slightly squeezing him. He didn’t move an inch, absorbed in his thoughts. “Hey, how about you come help me with the cooking?” Komaeda began, his gaze persisting. “I wouldn’t mind getting some help.”

Izuru lazily nodded, setting the computer aside and shaking off the heavy blanket. He took the laptop, carrying it under his arm, before heading towards the glass door, not even bothering to wait for Komaeda. As he entered the warm atmosphere, he heard the other’s quick and light steps, before he slid shut the door and ran towards the kitchen while the dark-haired one went in the study to put down the computer. When he came back in the living room, he noticed Komaeda, his movements erratic, rummaging through the drawers and cabinets. By the time he entered the kitchen, most of the ingredients were on the counter, neatly arranged on the ceramic surface.

Izuru waited for orders, standing still while the other bestirred himself. He jumped lightly when he felt cold hands at the base of his neck. “We can’t have all this hair bothering us while we work, now can we?” Komaeda laughed, tying up the black strands in one high ponytail. He heard the elastic snap and freed himself, turning around to face the other boy. It seemed like while he was away, he, himself, took the time to bunch up his own hair.

“Okay, so you can start by boiling the water while I work on the sauce”, Komaeda proposed, not even waiting for the other’s approval to start chopping more vegetables. There were already tomatoes cooking in a pot – that explained the strong scent mixed with the spices and pumpkin of before. Izuru started by filling a saucepan with water, then set it on the stove and cranked up the power to the max. With the other wannabe chef working like crazy, making bowls and utensils clank, time seemed to pass by much faster than normal. Before he even realized it, the pastas were cooked and the sauce all done, the kitchen now filled with a mouth-watering scent of spices and vegetables. Komaeda then set the table with clean plates, and served each of them a copious portion of spaghetti. When he finally sat down, next to Izuru, he was almost out of breath, his hair now a mess.

“Thanks for the help”, he said, his words cut by his ragged breathing. The black-haired boy looked at him in the eyes, playing with the fork in his hand.

“Yeah, you’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry if this is innacurate I barely even cook I relied on my memory of the times my parents would cook to write this


End file.
